


bravado can’t last anymore

by 8BitSkeleton



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment RPF
Genre: Banter, Established Relationship, Ghosts, Halloween, Happy Ending, Haunting, Horror Movie Tropes, Injury, M/M, Ouija, Possession, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:40:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27292837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8BitSkeleton/pseuds/8BitSkeleton
Summary: Ryan moves into his dream apartment. Gorgeous views, great rent, perfect location--The catch?It's haunted.
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Comments: 9
Kudos: 48
Collections: Skeptic Believer Book Club Hallowe'en Fic Exchange 2020





	bravado can’t last anymore

**Author's Note:**

  * For [a_denim_wrapped_nightmare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_denim_wrapped_nightmare/gifts).



> i got the prompt: "Ryan and Shane decide to have a date night in to celebrate Halloween. The mysterious paranormal entity in Ryan's apartment has other ideas."
> 
> and like!! i love horror movie tropes and this prompt _screamed_ horror movie tropes to me so i just ran with it! hope it's okay for you, friend-o! happy hallows eve!
> 
> (title is from [side effects by stray kids](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5rPluw_-Eb4))

“Are you _recording_ this?” Shane asks incredulously.

Ryan fiddles when the camera lens, leaning over to peek at the screen, making sure everything's in focus. “Um, yeah. Is that okay?”

“I mean, sure. But… aren't we up for a true crime season next?”

“This is definitely _not_ for Unsolved.” 

“Should've been. This would've been hilarious to debunk.”

Ryan scoffs, “I don't want anyone to know about this. Can you imagine the press? ‘Famed ghost hunter cluelessly moves into haunted apartment’? I'd crawl into a hole in the ground.”

“So,” Shane seems to be measuring his words. “You're recording… for you?”

“Yeah. For me myself and I. I want it in case....”

“Your ‘in case’ will never _be_ the case. Ghosts aren't real. We're here to play with a children's board game, then watch scary movies as an excuse to shove popcorn and Halloween candy in our mouths. It's okay, I brought enough for us, I'm prepared.”

Despite Ryan's weary sigh, he's slightly relieved at Shane's reaction. This is why he didn't completely regret telling him about his, um… _ghost problem_. Because this is why Ryan needed him. He needed the skepticism, the dose of reality, the grounding touch of Shane and his flat out denial. A thorough debunking once and for all so he could continue living in his dream apartment without needing to give up his sanity.

They’re sitting in Ryan’s spare room, the Ouija board set up on the floor between them. There are no candles this time around, no theatricality to it. The lights are on, for Pete’s sake. This is the most unspooky setting possible, being surrounded by spare workout gear and boxes Ryan never got around to unpacking. But something cold still settles in the pit of Ryan’s stomach, a harsh feeling of dread. 

He tries very hard to shake it off as he sits back down, cross-legged in front of the board. 

Shane sighs, rolls his head, as if stretching. “Okay, big boy. Show me what you got.” He lays his index fingers on the planchette and Ryan follows his lead, their fingertips touching.

“Um,” Ryan starts. “I guess… if there’s something in this apartment here with me, I’m calling to you. Show yourself.”

“Come on, don’t be shy. We can be best friends. You can join our sleepover. Do you like scary movies and popcorn?”

Ryan summarily ignores him. “If you’ve been trying to communicate with me lately, now’s the time. Please use the board, I’m listening.”

“More like _reading—_ ”

“—If tall, dark, and stringbean is annoying as much as he’s annoying me, please feel free to shut him up.”

“Oh, you’re welcome to do it!” Shane raises his voice, looking around the room. “Please possess me! Use me up! Prove me wrong!”

“Shane—”

“You’re welcome to every inch of my body!”

Ryan shakes his head, “That’s probably not a good idea.”

“It’ll be okay, Ryan. I’ll deal with your ghost.”

“When have you ever—” Ryan tries, feeling a sense of unease. “When have you dealt with _any_ ghost?”

“Exactly,” Shane says, voice low. “There’s no ghost, Ryan. Your place isn’t haunted, okay? It’s okay.”

Ryan takes in a shaky breath. He knows that all his evidence is flimsy at best, cold spots, things getting moved around, strange noises in the middle of the night. But this could all also be attributed to it being a new place. He’s not used to it all by now, his paranoia getting the best of him, most likely. 

There’s another beat of silence. The planchette doesn’t move an inch, a _centimeter_. It doesn’t move, the lights don’t flicker. When he glances at the camera, it’s still on and running. There’s no other noise, save for the street below. It is all calm and quiet, the very picture of peace. 

He lets out a breath. “Okay. Okay. Fuck,” a harsh laugh. He lets go of the planchette, running a hand through his hair. “Okay. We’re good.”

“Fuck yeah we are, baby.” Shane’s voice is a deep rumble, and when Ryan meets his eyes, he moves, leaning forward to press a kiss to Ryan’s lips. “Let’s go make popcorn.”

Shane picks up the board while Ryan stops the camera and goes to review the footage. He follows Shane out to the kitchen, tapping on the buttons of the camera as his boyfriend gets to work on the very important task of filling the popcorn maker he’s brought with him. 

The camera’s tinny speakers repeat their voices back to him, _are you recording this?_ He fast-forwards through the tape, making sure there’s nothing there, making absolutely, 100% sure that this is a cleared investigation. 

Shane hums as he turns the machine on and approaches Ryan, coming to stand behind him, setting his hands on Ryan’s hips. They watch the small screen as Ryan covers the lens, setting it up, then sits down. They set the fingers on the planchette and start talking. Ryan feels Shane’s lips on his neck just as he spots the flicker on screen.

Every hair on his body stands on end. He tenses up in Shane’s grip, body going rigid in an instant.

“Shane,” he whispers. “Did you see that?”

“Mm?” Shane asks, lifting his head. “Did I see what?”

“There’s—” Ryan’s trembling fingers slide along the camera controls as he struggles to go back. “There was a figure, there was something behind you on the footage.”

Shane offers no insight as Ryan rewinds the footage. 

“There!” Ryan pauses. Shane leans in to look. 

On the screen, Ryan can see a clear figure behind Shane. A round, almost human-like thing, tinted yellow in color with no discernible features. 

“What am I looking at?” Shane asks.

“You can’t see that?” He points to the screen. “Right there. It’s a shape, almost like a… penguin?”

Shane barks out a laugh. “You have a ghost penguin!”

Ryan tries to turn to face Shane, to look him in his big skeptic eyes and stand his ground. His eyes catch on something as he turns, the protest dying on his lips, face morphing into a dawning horror.

“Ryan?”

He can’t speak, can’t articulate himself, so he gestures behind Shane, down the hallway to the room where they’d tried to summon… well, the exact thing he’s looking at right now. 

Shane turns. He stares down at the yellow aura, its features now more distinct. It has a face, a mouth, eyes, but it’s all arranged wrong. The mouth is too far up, the eyes are too small, the pupils glowing more yellow than the rest of it. Ryan can’t tell if it has arms or legs, the rest of it blurring together in a wispy mess.

Shane clucks his tongue. “That's—”

“The ghost,” Ryan's voice is a mere whisper, choked off with fear.

“A very convincing projection! Where's the source?” Shane spins around, looking for the source while Ryan stands stock still, afraid to move, afraid to blink.

After another second of Ryan's silence, Shane finally stops examining his surroundings for the supposed source and he looks at Ryan directly. 

“Aw, come on, Ryan. Really?”

“Shane,” Ryan says, trying to keep his voice level. The glowing thing growls in front of them. “I don't have the mental capacity right now to say I told you so.”

“You just did.” Shane looks to the apparition and back to Ryan, studying him. Ryan thinks it isn't his imagination how Shane's voice sounds just a little bit more unsteady. “Did you get acting lessons?”

A strangled, crazed laugh leaves Ryan before he can stop it and the ghost turns its blank eyes onto Ryan, “You really wanna rip on me _now_?”

“I wasn't…” Shane doesn't finish that thought, instead looking back to the entity. “It's… _what_?”

“I— It's, um, I don't know. But it looks… scary.”

“Looks like a little bitch.”

“Shane—”

It's then that's the apparition moves, growling as it approaches Shane almost too fast for Ryan's eyes to track. The movement is lightning quick and Shane can't even move a step to avoid it before the two collide— but instead of barreling past Shane, the ghost goes _inside_ of him, its essence being absorbed into Shane like ink to paper. 

Shane bows forward, whole body spasms overtaking him, as if heaving. He falls to his hands and knees jerkily as Ryan looks on in horror, shoulders shaking with shallow breaths. The apartment is silent. Ryan resists the urge to take a step — he isn't sure if he'd go towards Shane or away from him. 

“Sh… Shane?” He tries. His voice sounds too high in his ears, too shaky. 

Shane looks up. 

Those aren't his eyes.

The gaze that locks with Ryan is inhuman. The pupils are black slits running across yellow sclera, snakelike and glowing. They paralyze Ryan, glue his feet to the floor as he watches Shane's face twist into something unrecognizable. Every feature on his face slots into something cold and cruel with slow, trickling movements. The edges of Shane's mouth curl back into a terrible sneer, his monstrous eyes narrowing into focus. The flash of teeth cuts down Ryan's back like a cold knife. The edges of them look pointed in Shane's mouth, adding onto the mounting dread and terror Ryan feels. 

A whimper crosses his lips before he can stop it, knees buckling under him. He almost collapses from how overwhelmed he feels.

Faster than his eye can track, Shane is moving. He stands and Ryan tries to follow it but before he knows what's happening, he's level with Shane's chest. Then his waist. He cuts his eyes up to Shane's face then down to his feet only to realize that they aren't touching the ground. Shane is… levitating. The sight makes Ryan feel faint and, this time, his knees _do_ buckle. He drops the camera in his hands and winces, knowing it should be the _least_ of his problems right now but the feeling of it adding to his dread. He stumbles backwards, the edge of the kitchen's entrance thumping into his back uncomfortably. He looks up, mouth agape with horror, meeting Shane's inhuman eyes. 

The thing possessing Shane smiles at him again, smug and malicious, its glowing eyes emanating a threatening aura. Everything about Shane feels wrong and malicious and it makes Ryan's feeling of dread mount. That's Shane. That's _his_ Shane. This ghost has Shane, he has no right to—

The thought makes something angry swell in Ryan. “Hey!” He exclaims, surprised at the fervor his voice carries. “Get out of him!”

Shane's face twists into something resembling discomfort, disgust. The pointed teeth snarl before the yellow eyes unfocus and flash back to Shane's familiar white and brown. 

The sight spurs Ryan on, a shred of faith to grab hold of. He hopes and wishes that Shane is in there and fighting this thing too. He needs his holy water but that's in the other room with the Ouija board and he can't leave Shane like this. So he does the next best thing. 

Ryan tries to steady his voice. “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, get out of him!”

The words seem to hit the thing between the eyes. Shane's features pinch uncomfortably, looking as if he's eaten something sour. His levitating form wavers, moves back and forth forcefully. 

The reaction strengthens Ryan, who pushes away from the wall and repeats, stronger than before, “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, get out of him!”

An inhuman screech rips itself from Shane's throat. Ryan watches as his face shifts once more, this time to terror, his eyes clearing and teeth returning to normal. He stays suspended for another second before he's thrown clear across the living room, over the couch, over the table, over the TV. Shane hits the wall with a sickening crunch, denting the drywall with his impact. Ryan bolts into action without a second thought. 

“Shane!” He calls, moving to the other man's side. A yellow cloud lifts from his body as Ryan leans down, confirmation that the thing in Shane has left him alone. 

Shane groans, eyes blinking wide and fearful for a second before he winces in pain.

“Are you okay? Is it gone?” Ryan's voice is breathless, whispery. 

“I'm—” Shane's voice cracks. “I think, my leg is—” 

Ryan spares a glance down, noting the slight bend in Shane's shin. Likely broken. 

“Okay, okay, okay, we've gotta— we need to call someone, you can't—”

A noise startles Ryan. The scraping of furniture sounds throughout the space. As he looks up, he sees every piece of furniture he owns moving on its own, back and forth, digging harsh grooves into the hardwood. The lamps on the tables shake and fall off with the movement, his TV wobbles back and forth, everything surrounding them thrown off kilter by the invisible force.

“We need to go,” Ryan says just as the first object gets hurled at him. It barely misses but he still feels the force of it sail past him as the camera he dropped earlier embeds itself into the drywall. 

“Jesus!” Shane yelps. The word seems to agitate the mood in the room, making the temperature drop drastically. 

“ _Now_ ,” Ryan urges, slinging Shane’s arm around his shoulder. Shane winces but says nothing as he helps Ryan haul him up. He’s limping badly, most of his weight draped across Ryan’s shoulders, but Ryan doesn’t _care_ , can only focus on getting the fuck out of dodge. 

Their short walk across the living room and to the front door is another nightmare. Every loose object in the room sails towards them, pelting them with impressive force. A remote control hits Ryan in the ribs and the lamp on the floor barely misses them again, skittering to the floor in front of them. The closest chair scrapes ever closer, threatening to box them in as Ryan’s television sails towards them, landing just short of their feet behind them. 

“This is not _fun_!” Shane exclaims just as the doors to the balcony start vibrating. They wobble, bend, then shatter, pieces of glass hurtling towards them. Ryan turns his back, trying to shield Shane as best he can but mostly failing, the other man’s height proving to be a disadvantage. He feels blood bloom on the back of his neck, his hands, his cheek. When he looks at Shane, he sees the other man hasn’t fared much better, light scratches littering his face. 

“Come on!” Ryan says, keeping the focus on their _escape_. The door is mere feet away. 

They reach the door just as the couch turns over and the smoke alarm goes off. 

It’s a battle to open the door, the invisible force not making it easy, but Ryan, a gym-rat ghost-hater fueled by adrenaline manages to wrench it open just long enough for them to make it out. 

They stumble down the hallways, leaving the commotion behind, retreating as Ryan’s neighbors exit their apartments in response to the alarm. It’s now that Ryan hears Shane’s whimpering, a low, keening sound as they move. His leg is most definitely broken and this isn’t helping at all. Ryan has to get him out and get him _help_. 

They have to climb down the stairs with the rest of the residents of Ryan’s building, ignoring the looks and outright stares they get, absolutely sure that they look a little worse for wear. Shane’s whimpering doesn’t let up, only growing as they get to the ground floor. 

“It’s okay, big guy,” Ryan soothes him as they exit into the street. “I gotcha. Here, sit down. Wait ‘til the paramedics get here.”

“A true— true gentleman,” Shane tries, voice layered with pain. “Very noble of you.”

“Call me Sir Bergara,” Ryan jokes back as he helps Shane down to sit on the curb. He spots the red flashing lights of the fire trucks in the distance, gaze flickering around to the other disgruntled residents, and up to the dark, night sky. He’s alive. They’re both alive. They just encountered a… ghost… thing, and they’re both _alive._ Ryan can’t help his relieved laugh.

“What’s so funny, Sir Bergara?”

He meets Shane’s eyes. “Can you believe this shit?” Another laugh, edges almost manic. “We finally found a— a ghost!”

Shane shakes his head. “Fuckin’.... Of _course_ it had to be on Halloween. _Of course_.” Shane looks back in the general direction of Ryan’s now-ruined apartment. “Very funny, Stay-Puft Man.”

“Hey,” Ryan calls to him, voice low. Once he has his attention, he leans in, pressing their foreheads together. “We made it out.”

“We did. We’re alive. But at what cost?” Shane murmurs. “Now I have to stop shaking my head whenever you ask if ghosts are real.”

That brings another laugh out of Ryan. “Oh, what a loss. I was right about something. I will never stop holding this over your head.”

“You’re about to be insufferable,” Shane shakes his head. “But now I guess I have an excuse to invite you to move in with me.”

Ryan laughs, high and nervous and so grateful to be _alive_. “I guess I have to say yes now.”

“That was my plan all along,” Shane closes his eyes. “Summon a ghost-demon-whatever as an elaborate ploy.”

The laugh Ryan gives now is more strangled than the previous one. “Worked. Definitely worked.”

The kiss Shane presses to Ryan feels life-affirming. A celebration of their triumph.

That is, until Ryan pulls back, his shock clearing long enough for it to sink in properly.

His voice is far too loud as he exclaims, “Holy shit. Ghosts are _real_.”

Shane sighs wearily, dropping his head into his hands. “Yes, Ryan. They are.”

Ryan’s manic guffaw echoes around them, earning them a few more worried looks.


End file.
